


Us

by moomoomeep



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Drabble Series, Explicit Language, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Francis POV (last chapter only), Human Names
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-24
Updated: 2018-04-11
Packaged: 2019-04-07 05:28:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 1,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14073915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moomoomeep/pseuds/moomoomeep
Summary: An unconnected drabble series about Fem!America and England.





	1. Remembrance

**Author's Note:**

> Hi all! It's been about a year or so since I've uploaded and I'm back with a oldie but a goodie! When I was bored in class years ago, I used to write mini drabbles in my planner and would post them on my old ffn account. For some reason, I deleted them off ffn, but I was cleaning out my laptop and stumbled across three of the drabbles so I'll go ahead and post the ones I have and update when I find the others. 
> 
> Anyway, enough rambling. I hope you all enjoy! 
> 
> Warnings: none
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia: Axis Powers

Rain.

It’s always raining.

Well, not always. However, whenever Arthur is around, it seems to rain nonstop. It’s as if the English weather follows him.

Amelia rests her chin on her hand as she looks outside from her perch next to window. She has nothing against the rain—nothing at all. But, when it pours with the sky dark and thunder rumbling and rattling in the distance, it brings back unwanted memories.

She sighs. “I hate the rain.”

Arthur startles a bit, surprised by the sound of Amelia’s voice. She’s been unusually silent for the past couple hours— so silent that Arthur was _actually_ able to get some reading done.

He raises an eyebrow. “You do?”

Amelia nods without taking her eyes off the window.

“Why?” Arthur asks, curiously. He sets his book down to give her his full attention. “Amelia?”

No answer. 

“Are you al—?”

“Because it reminds me of what I had to give up.”

Arthur’s eyes widen slightly. He wasn’t expecting _that_ answer.

“I had to give _you_ up.”

Arthur sets his book aside and stands from the couch. He walks over to the window and sits next to Amelia. He places a hand on her back in a comforting manor. “You have me now.”

Amelia turns to him and smiles. “I do, don’t I?” she says, fondly. She shifts so she can rest her head against Arthur’s shoulder and slide her arms around his waist.

Arthur wraps his arm around Amelia and places a kiss on top of her head. He rests his head against hers as the two watch the rain, wrapped in each other’s arms.


	2. Crazy Ideas

“Amelia?” Arthur calls.

He’s been trying to find her for the past twenty minutes, but can’t seem to find her anywhere. He clicks his tongue and walks back downstairs, noticing for the first time that the basement door is ajar. He furrows his brow and walks over to the wooden door before opening it further and being greeted by darkness.

“Amelia?”

_“Shhh! Keep your voice down or they’ll hear us!”_ comes a harsh whisper.

“And whom will hear us, exactly?” Arthur asks confused.

_“Shhhhh!”_ Amelia whispers again.

Arthur sighs. He flips on the light switch and descends the basement stairs. When he reaches the bottom, he glances around the furnished room before spotting Amelia’s cowlick peeking out from behind her dark red sofa. He approaches the couch and finds her curled between the back of the loveseat and the wall.

“What the hell are you doing back there?”

Amelia glances up, her eyes filled with fear as she grabs Arthur by his shirtsleeve and tugs.

Arthur gasps in shock and tries to struggle against her strength but to no avail. He sighs heavily and allows himself to be pulled down. He looks at Amelia unimpressed as she places a finger against her lips and makes a quiet shushing noise.

“Amelia, please tell me why the hell we’re hiding in your basement?” he whispers annoyed.

“So the paparazzi don’t get us,” Amelia whispers back with a hint of worry in her voice.

Arthur rolls his eyes. For the past couple weeks, the media has been hounding Amelia more frequently and while the photographers are irritating and aggressive, they’re not scary. “They’re not going to hurt you.”

“I know, but they’re annoying as fuck and I have a feeling they’re camped outside the house right now.”

Arthur raises an eyebrow. “You do realize that there’s no one except us for miles right.

Amelia gives Arthur a dumbfounded look. “What?”


	3. Always

“Hey Artie?” Amelia asks softly.

She’s been looking for Arthur for the past hour to try to convince him to help her with some paperwork. She eventually found him sitting under the large oak tree in her backyard—the same one that Amelia used to play on when she was a kid (with Arthur’s supervision, of course).

Amelia sits down next to him and pokes him in the side, watching with amusement when he flinches. “Whatcha thinking about?”

“You,” Arthur responds without thinking. When he realizes what he’s admitted, a small flush crawls over his neck.

Amelia smiles, feeling touched by Arthur’s admission. He doesn’t usually voice his thoughts so easily, but it’s a welcomed change.

“Really?”

“Yeah,” Arthur responds before turning to face Amelia. “I’m always thinking of you.”

Amelia smiles warmly and lets out a small, happy giggle. She leans her head against Arthur’s shoulder and sighs contently when she feels a kiss being placed at her crown. “I love you,” she mumbles into his shirt.

She feels Arthur’s smile against her hair. “I love you too.”


	4. Bad Poems

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I found the other fics so I'm gonna go ahead and finish off the series. Many thanks to those who have read and left kudos! I appreciate all of you~

Arthur is enjoying a nice afternoon in his back garden. He’s sitting in his favorite lawn chair reading the paper and drinking a fresh cup of tea while listening to the faeries giggling and playing games amongst themselves in his rose bushes. Arthur sighs and settles further into his chair as a calming gust of wind caresses the land. It’s really is a lovely and peaceful day. 

"Artie!” Amelia yells as she busts through the patio doors and into the back garden, making her way over to Arthur and hugging him tightly (at least, by his standards). “I missed you!”

Arthur smiles and hugs her back. "I missed you too, Amelia."

Amelia shifts and plops herself down in his lap. “Guess what?”

“What?”

Amelia holds up a piece of paper that Arthur didn’t notice she had before. "I wrote a poem for you!"

Arthur’s heart flutters. Amelia loudly expresses her love for him every day, but never via poem. “Really? That’s very thoughtful of you.”

"I know," Amelia responds happily. "Do you want to hear it?"

Arthur nods and smiles. "Have at it."

Amelia holds up the paper and clears her throat. “Roses are red, Violets are blue. In Soviet Russia, poem writes you!” She lowers the paper into her lap and looks at Arthur expectantly. “So . . . what do you think?” 

Arthur is at a complete loss for words. He figured that Amelia’s poem would be . . . interesting, but he didn’t think that she would be inspired by an overused internet meme. Arthur opens his mouth and his about to tell her to try again, but seeing the hopeful look on Amelia’s face, he doesn’t have the heart to be harsh with her. “That’s very . . . creative—yes, creative of you. Good work, Amelia.” 

Amelia’s smile widens at Arthur’s words. “I _knew_ you’d love it,” she says as she throws her arms around Arthur’s neck and kisses him lovingly on the cheek before hopping out off his lap and jogging inside while mumbling something about being hungry.

Arthur laughs to himself and takes a sip of his now cold tea. He doesn’t mind the poem, really, he just hopes that she never reads that poem to Ivan.  
  
*

**Two Days Later**

"Hey Ivan! I wrote a poem! Do you want to hear it?" America asks.

Ivan nods. "I would be honored to hear your poem, comrade."

"Okay, here it goes: Roses are red, Violets are blue. In Soviet Russia, poem writes you!"

“ . . . Damn straight."


	5. I Love You

The ocean breeze gently blows Amelia’s hair. She brushes her dirty blonde locks behind her ear and shivers slightly before moving closer to Arthur, who wraps his arms around her out of instinct. Amelia sighs and leans her head on Arthur’s shoulder, gazing up at the sky thoughtfully for a moment before turning to her boyfriend, who is looking at the sea with a thoughtful expression.

“Arthur,” Amelia says quietly.

Arthur looks down at Amelia. “Yes, dear.”

“I love you.”

Arthur smiles. “I love you too,” he says as he pulls her even closer and places a kiss on her forehead.

Amelia wraps her arms around Arthur’s middle and sighs contently before turning back to the sea.


	6. What Happens on Break

Francis Bonnefoy is a man. A man whom enjoys the company of others. A man whom enjoys the company of others in both bar and bedroom. A man whom is currently roaming the hallways of the G8 Summit building looking for that exact person. He turns a corner and grins when he comes across Arthur—grumpy, eternally bitter, and _alone_ , which comes as a bit of a surprise since Amelia always seems to be attached to his hip.

Francis smirks regardless. No matter. Arthur’s personality may be terrible, but he’s a hell of a drinking partner when he’s in the mood.

“Hey Arthur~!” Francis sings as he makes his way towards him.

Arthur’s eyes narrow. Every time Francis comes looking for him something stupid happens and the two of them end up in deep shit with either Amelia, Ludwig, or Yao—which ever one of them is running the G8 at that particular moment in time.

“What do you want, Frog?” Arthur asks harshly, already dreading whatever Francis wants to ask him.

“Oh, Arthur, I’m wounded. Your words they are so harsh,” Francis says as he puts a hand to his heart and juts out his lower lip.

Arthur rolls his eyes. “Cut the shit, Francis, what do you want?”

Francis smirks. He has Arthur right where he wants him. “I was just wondering if you’d join me for a couple rounds at the bar down the road after this dreadful meeting.”

Arthur blinks in surprise. He certainly wasn’t expecting that. “Thank you, Francis, but I already have plans.”

Now, it’s Francis’s turn to blink in surprise. “Plans? You? With whom? Alistair? Aaron?”

“Amelia,” a voice says from behind him.

Francis turns to look for the source of the voice and finds Amelia herself standing behind him with two brown bags of food in her hands.

“Hey Francis,” Amelia says before looking past him. “Hey Artie. I brought you lunch.”

“Good, I’m famished,” Arthur says before walking past Francis and to Amelia. When he reaches her, he takes one of the bags of food and kisses her on the cheek. “Thank you, dear. Let’s go eat at our usual spot.”

“Okay,” Amelia says with a smile. She waves at Francis with her now free hand before following Arthur down the hall and leaving Francis gaping after them.


End file.
